


a slight change of plans

by lellowix



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, BAMF Alexis | Quackity, Field Trip, Karl Jacobs-centric, M/M, Multi, Pyromaniac Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Wilderness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29770602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lellowix/pseuds/lellowix
Summary: Karl Jacobs was actually looking forward to the wilderness field trip, believe it or not. At least, until he got to the camp and discovered that he would definitely be sleeping with one eye open the entire week he was there. A scheduling error caused two schools to be at the camp at the same time- Mizu High School, where Karl goes, and Kinoko Boarding School for Troubled Teens. When he gets placed in a cabin with a boy who seems obsessed with fire and his friend with the crazy eyes, he doesn't expect to make it through the week in one hopefully-not-charred piece. But there's something magnetic about his new tormentors- ahem- roommates. Assuming he can manage to avoid getting blown up, stabbed, or otherwise brutally killed, he thinks he might end up liking the two boys more than he expected.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Alexis | Quackity & Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Jschlatt & Minx | JustAMinx (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	a slight change of plans

Karl opened his eyes, breathing in the refreshingly cool air. It seemed like it had been forever since he had been out in the wilderness like this. The sky was a beautiful cerulean canvas, wispy clouds like strokes of paint across it. He wished he could get a closer look at it, fly with his toes barely skimming the tops of the evergreens. Instead, the only thing he got a closer look at was the muddy ground, as a rowdy group of his classmates shoved past, barely sparing him a glance. Daydream abruptly ended, Karl stood up, brushed the clods of dirt off the knees of his jeans, and traipsed toward the cluster of wooden cabins, following the loud shouts of adolescent tomfoolery.

Unlike most of his classmates, he had been looking forward to the field trip. Every year, his school would send the junior class out to the middle of nowhere for a week. Among the students, it was notorious for being incredibly boring, full of “survival skills” that they would never need and forced participation in ridiculous campfire songs. But for Karl, it was a rare opportunity to get away from the responsibilities that came with his everyday life. He had always loved the outdoors, but he didn’t often get the chance to get out of the city and explore.

He slowed as he noticed the group in front of him milling around confused next to one of the largest buildings, seemingly waiting for something. Making his way around the crush of voice cracks and body odor, he saw the chaperones arguing quietly with a woman who looked like the camp director. Taking advantage of his tendency to be ignored by almost everyone, he edged along the side of the building, closer to the conversation until he could distinguish the harshly whispered words being exchanged within the cluster of adults.

“The school put this on their calendars _months_ ago! We come here every year! What do you mean, there was a mistake in the scheduling? _Fix it_.”

That was the economics teacher. His name was Mr. Schit, or at least that’s the only thing Karl had ever heard him called. Karl had no idea why he became a teacher, let alone volunteered to be a chaperone for a wilderness field trip. He didn’t seem to particularly like chaperoning. Or wilderness. Or field trips. Or children. There was an inside joke among the students that he was forced to become a teacher as community service after being released from prison. It probably wasn’t true, but Karl definitely thought he had the personality of an ex-criminal.

This was a prime example. Mr. Schit’s expression, directed at the camp director, was murderous, and the woman he was glaring at looked like she was doing her best to refrain from punching the teacher in the face in front of dozens of teenagers. She settled for shooting a retort, Irish accent clipped with annoyance.

“Look, Mister, I don’t know what happened. The whole scheduling thing isn’t my job. Below my pay grade. I’m saying that there’s already a school group here, so either you pull up your big boy panties and help me reconstruct the sleeping arrangements, or you throw a tantrum and drive back home.”  
Mr. Schit looked speechless. Karl suppressed a smile, reveling in the second-hand revenge for all the times he had been insulted in the man’s class. One of the other teachers, Mr. Za, if Karl remembered right, left the two adults to glower at each other and approached the group of students to explain the situation. Karl slipped away from his his spot against the building to rejoin his classmates.

“Alright, everyone!” Mr. Za clapped his hands, his English accent cutting cleanly through the mindless chatter. “There’s been a slight change of plans. Another school is already here, so we’ll be making some new friends! Instead of one or two people per room, there’ll be 3. You’ll be sharing with a few students from-” He stopped abruptly to shout over his shoulder at the camp director. “What school is it?”

The camp director broke her staring contest with Mr. Schit, huffing and walking over to the crowd of kids.

“Kinoko Boarding School for Troubled Teens.”

The whispers broke out again among the group, some grinning faces and some concerned. Mr. Za looked as though he was thinking of taking the director up on the offer to drive back home, but Karl barely registered the increase in excitement around him as his anxiety skyrocketed. Apparently, he would be sharing a room with juvenile delinquents for the next week. Wonderful.

~~

Karl trailed behind the group, lost in thought as he followed his class back to the bus. If he was lucky, he would be placed in a room with only one mildly violent teenager, along with one of his own classmates. If he wasn’t, he could be forced to sleep in a room with two literal murderers, and no one he knew close enough to hear his agonized screams as he died a slow and painful death. What the hell kind of field trip was this?

Not to mention, the name of the school was ridiculous. Boarding School for Troubled Teens? That was such a cliche old-timey name for a place that your parents would threaten you with when you melted your crayons into the couch with a hair-dryer. Karl couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He picked up his stuff from under his seat, where he had spent the ride to camp trying to block out the droning voice of the teacher reminiscing from the seat next to him. Despite his anticipation of this trip, he would now rather suffer through another 4 hours of squeaky seats and stories about grading papers than get off that bus, get placed in a cabin, and lay awake every night for hours waiting to get stabbed.

Sighing, he resigned himself to his fate. He began mentally drafting his will as he lugged his bags off the bus (last, of course- no one had stopped long enough to let him step out into the aisle, so he was forced to stand there holding his heavy luggage while everyone passed by him towards their impending doom).

He couldn’t bring himself to care that the bottom of his suitcase was being soaked in muddy water as he dragged it across the field towards the cabins. By now, the students from the other school had obviously heard about the situation, as they were one by one stepping out of their respective cabins and staring at the teens that would be invading their space for the next week.

As Karl caught up to the herd, he noticed the eye of one of the boys on him. The kid was probably an inch or two shorter than him, but he was stockier, with broad shoulders and a white strip of cloth tied around his forehead. When their eyes met, the boy’s face broke out in a savage grin, and he readjusted his stance to lean back against the wall of his cabin with an arrogant grace. Karl looked quickly away, towards where the chaperones were rearranging the cabin assignments. When he glanced back, another boy was standing next to the one with the headband. This one was even shorter, and skinny, but his slight frame had a wiry strength to it. He was dressed in all black, with a beanie pulled low over his ears. He leaned towards the other boy, and whatever he whispered caused a raucous laugh that Karl could hear even from his position across the field. 

Realizing that he was still looking at the pair, and both of the boys were staring at him, he forced his attention back onto the huddle of adults. He focused completely on not reacting to the eyes that he could still feel on him, which distracted him from the fact that the chaperones had dispersed, and Mr. Za was headed back towards his class with Mr. Schit trailing behind, a sour expression on the face of the latter.

“Alright everyone, we’ve split you up. You’ll either be sharing with one person from Kinoko and one of your classmates, or you’ll be sharing with two of the Kinoko students. Unfortunately, this means that those of you that requested specific roommates have likely been shuffled around,” Mr. Za announced. As he was about to continue, a grumble from Mr. Schit interrupted him.

“If we had more warning, that wouldn’t have been a problem.” The teacher shot a glare at the camp director, who stuck her tongue out in return. Mr. Za cleared his throat.

“As the Kinoko students have already been here for a few days, they will be your guides around the camp. Take an hour or so to unpack and get to know your roommates, then go to the dining hall. We’ll be spending quite a bit of time with these people over the next week, so do your best to make a good impression. Ms. Minx will be available if you have any questions.” He gestured to the camp director, who was still scowling at Mr. Schit.

“It’s just Minx,” she corrected. Mr. Schit rolled his eyes. With a long-suffering sigh, Mr. Za continued.

“I’ll now read out your cabin assignments. The cabin numbers are beside the door, and I trust the Kinoko students will be welcoming.” The way Mr. Za said the last part implied that he had doubts, but he moved on to the list of students without saying anything more. Karl waited for his name to be called, but he remained without an assignment even as Mr. Za looked up from his list and told the teens to go unpack. Karl made his way over to the pair of teachers, his suitcase bumping across the ground mournfully behind him. Mr. Za walked away to talk to Minx as he approached.

“Excuse me? I didn’t get assigned to a cabin.”

Mr. Schit looked up from his list in annoyance, the narrowing of his eyes the only sign of recognition. He sighed.

“What’s your name.”

“Jacobs. Karl Jacobs. I’m in your Business and Marketing class?”

“Hmph.” The man flipped through the pages of his list, scanning for the name. He shook his head, and stalked off back towards the Kinoko chaperones without another word, leaving Karl to stand awkwardly in the field, mud soaking into his shoes. As far as he could tell, most of his classmates were ecstatic to be meeting such “bad-ass” new people. No one else seemed to be worried about being killed in their sleep. Now, that might be because they were idiots, but Karl decided to loosen up a bit. The chances of being murdered were statistically very small. He would be fine. He watched his class find their cabins, greeting their temporary roommates with grins on their faces and that weird combination of handshakes, bro-hugs, and shoulder-slaps that teenage boys do.

He would be fine.

Mr. Schit stomped back over after a brief conversation with the other chaperones. For a second, Karl half-expected an apology for being forgotten, then realized how absurd that would be considering the teacher’s personality.

“You’re in Cabin 18. We didn’t have anyone from our school assigned there before, but I guess you’re just the lucky one. Have fun with your roommates.” Mr. Schit turned his back on Karl once more, no doubt to continue tormenting the camp director. Evidently, Karl was on his own now.

He dragged his suitcase towards the cabins, noting that most of the teenagers were inside by now, including the two Kinoko boys he had seen earlier. Not that he was looking for them. He passed cabin after cabin, looking for the place he would be staying. And hopefully not dying. _14, 15, 16, 17… There it is. 18._ With a glance at the stairs, he collapsed the long handle of his suitcase and grabbed it by the shorter one. He lurched to the side, the backpack on his back shifting with the momentum as his suitcase bumped up the first step and against the edge of the second. Four more unwieldy ascensions later, and he had arrived at the door. He tried the handle, but finding it locked (what kind of camp had cabin doors that could lock?), he knocked twice.

The door was pulled open after a second of shuffling inside, and Karl found himself face to face- well, face to shoulder- with the beanie kid that had been staring at him earlier. Close up, Karl saw that the boy was a good four or five inches shorter than him, had a medium skin tone, and a look in his eyes like he was seconds away from making a joke, or blowing up a building, or both. Karl did his best to smile confidently, but concluded that it probably made him look nauseous, and settled for making awkward eye contact. The boy turned back towards the interior of the cabin as a voice from inside interrupted their standoff.

“If that’s Mr. Halo, you can tell him that I didn’t sneak a lighter into my backpack again.”

Suddenly overcome by the urge to run back to Mr. Schit and demand a different cabin - preferably an empty one - Karl shuffled his feet on the wood of the porch. The face of the boy in front of him broke into a ferocious smile, and he opened the door further to allow Karl inside. As Karl stepped past, the short boy called back to his friend.

“It’s not Mr. Halo, idiot. And you _did_ sneak a lighter into your backpack again.”

“Yeah, well, close the door then! And that’s not the point!”

Karl took a tentative step into the cabin, flinching minutely at the slam of the door being closed behind him. In front of him were two bunk beds, the bottom bunk of each messy and covered in belongings. To his right, curtains covered a window that he assumed looked out into the forest. To his left, the other boy that had been looking at him earlier sat against the wall, his gaze focused on the dance of the tiny flame produced by the lighter in his hand. The one with the beanie walked over to him and slapped him lightly across the head, his nose scrunching up.

“Ay! If it had been Mr. Halo at the door, that would’ve been both our asses sent home. Put that stupid thing away.”

The fire boy grumbled, throwing the lighter over onto the bottom level of one of the bunk beds. When he turned back with a retort for the other boy, his eyes caught Karl’s and the words died in his throat.

**Author's Note:**

> This'll be a short story, probably 5 to 10 chapters long. I do my best to update relatively often, but school tends to be a bitch. I hope you enjoyed chapter one!


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